The Academy of Quidditch
by killer whale gal
Summary: Quidditch is popular everywhere else but America. So, naturally, Amelia is an American in England going to a school to play a sport she has barely even heard of before. Maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to survive her first year at The Academy of Quidditc
1. Space Debris

**Space Debris**

Clouds of brown dirt had been puffing up from the ground all afternoon. The sky was a perfect blue and picture clear, and I swear, if you wanted to you could have looked up and seen your reflection. It was the last game of the season, my Junior Varsity team was ten and six, and we really hoped to rack up one last win to end the season with a bang. We were good; I knew that we wanted this win more then anything, and by God we were gonna stop at nothing to get it.

Bottom of the ninth, we were down by one with five to six, and two outs. I gulped and tightened my gloves, I was up to bat. The air was tense despite the teams' attempts to try and remain calm, coach especially was smiling and encouraging, trying to keep spirits up and the pressure down. Let me tell you, her attempts in keeping the pressure down were futile. I was going to make or break this game, if I got a hit and got the girl in a third we could play another inning, but if I messed up somehow, our last game was lost. Needless to say, unless coach could change the scoreboard, the pressure wasn't anything less then me swimming at the bottom of the ocean.

I pushed down the helmet that was already on my head, desperate for anything to do with my hands. Then I leaned over ever so slightly and picked up my bat. That bat and I had made many a good hit and it had plenty of RBI's to its name. That name being Sharon, because yes, I did name it. I walked onto the field, the opposing team watching me and studying me. They too shifted on their feet because they knew what was at stake. I shuffled my feet a little, kicking some dirt up just to make myself feel better. Holding up my hand, I positioned myself at home, lining me up so that I could hit a line drive way into the outfield. My bat was swung up by my arms as I stood at the ready, eyeing down the pitcher daring her to send her best pitch at me.

She eyed me too, acting intimidating and daring me to hit it. We both stood, myself at the ready and she preparing herself. For what seemed like hours we both just stood and stared, no sound coming from anyone, all stands holding their breath. Finally the pitcher heaved her body upwards preparing to send that ball hurting to my body when a high pitched whirling sound echoed through the air. She stopped herself, mid pitch, concentration lost at the suddenness of the sound. The other team turned around to stare at a large meteor type thing hurtling towards us. The pitcher turned around too and the people in the stands stood up in bewilderment. I stared too, not even dropping my stance. I took a daring step forward as I saw it getting closer and closer.

It was in the back of the outfield now and I saw center field dive away to get out of it homicidal path. I then noticed it was headed strait for the pitcher. Then the crowd started to scream and I leapt forward. Suddenly, without realizing I had moved, I was at the pitchers mound. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" I yelled at her as she just gawked, entranced by the odd thing. I pushed her to the ground and swung my bat at it. It was like being shot in the arm, pain went shooting into my hands, up into my shoulder, and down my back. That thing, whatever it was, went away in the same path it had come it.

"Whoa," was all I heard the pitcher say as I turned to look down at her wide eyed. I nodded and she pointed to my bat; it was bent.

"Holy…" was all I managed to get out as I shook it and heard it rattle like a baby toy. My bat, my baby, was broke…ruined. I looked back longingly at my team, unsure of what had just happened and to try and get comfort from my newly busted bat. Surprisingly, they were ecstatic and came rushing out onto the field.

"Yeah, Amelia!" My friend Jess shouted throwing her arms triumphantly up into the air. I smiled, realizing that whatever I just did was pretty cool.

"Girl, you were bookin'!" A girl Karen from New York patted me on the back, sounding her approval in a heavy accent too. I cringed at every pat though; it would have been a lie if I said my back hadn't hurt anymore. Everyone seemed generally proud of my heroic actions, but I didn't know if I really deserved all this hype. Mainly because I have the world's largest ego and they were just feeding it and giving me fuel to tell this enormous fish tale later on to my family. The celebration was far from over when the umpire came over and ushered the twelve girls off the field threatening a disqualification.

I got a new bat and walked back to home plate. Winning didn't seem nearly as important as it did five minutes ago, the most exciting and bizarre thing had just happened and I had been right in the middle. My team had been the dominate presence in that ordeal because I swung my bat at it, broke my favorite bat in the whole world, and had to push a girl out of the way. The other team just ducked like a groundhog when it sees its shadow. My adrenaline was pumping as I got a new bat and walked back up at the plate. Everything was happening fast now, I couldn't even tell you specific details even if I wanted to. I saw the pitch thrown at me and bat cracked against it like a tree snapping in half. The softball went flying way over centerfields head and I knew with no doubt in my mind I had hit a homer.

Third base went flying into home and I skipped merrily across the bases, finally reaching home and smiling triumphantly at my team. They were basically jumping on the bench and screaming as loud as they possibly could. I beamed and sprinted to them, all fourteen of us embracing in a hug. We had won, and on top of that, that other really weird thing happened. Most importantly, we had won! Our team captain, Sam, started our classic team chant we did every time we did sometimes incredibly awesome. "Cougars got the beat, I said us cougars got the beat! We got it!" That was followed by a series of claps and stomps in a beat.

"Good Job girls!" Coach yelled over us. We all quieted down and looked over to her. "That was the most impressive game I have seen in a long time. Good season and I hope I see you all trying out next year. Bring it in!" We all cheered at her last speech of the season. She kept it short, sweet, and to the point, but her congratulations meant the world to us. It wasn't everyday that Coach Andrews told us we did a good job; she always had something to say on how we could improve. So, we all got in a circle and put our hands in for the last time of the season. "On three, Cougars! One two three…" Coach said and we all yelled, "COUGARS!" It was good day, I was the team hero for a while, we have an eleven and six record, the summer was less then a month away, and I was on top of the world.

Did I happen mention I am also Witch, I go to High School to learn magic, and that I am pretty average when it comes to learning spells? Ha ha, and now you're confused.


	2. Cordially Invited

**Cordially Invited**

"Whatever it was, it was defiantly magical," Coach told a man named Shamus McLaughlin, the Department head of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. My whole entire softball team was crammed into a small office while a man asked us questions and took notes on what had happened last Thursday. The middle aged man nodded and scratched the little goatee that was hanging off of his chin. He looked up at us and folded his hands with his elbows on his desk; he looked like he wanted to talk but didn't know where to begin.

"It would seem," He began as all the bodies in the room leaned forward eager to hear what he had to say, "That it wasn't anything evil or malevolent, but rather it was a jinxed bludger." He sat proudly giving his diagnosis of the situation, but soon slumped ever so slightly as he noticed that we all had no idea what he was talking about. "A bludger is from the sport of Quidditch, a popular game over in England and basically everywhere else in the world except here in the United States. In a nutshell Quidditch is their equivalent to Quodpot." Finally we all nodded beginning to understand what he was talking about. We had all heard of Quodpot, heck, we had even been to a few matches, but where we lived it wasn't the most popular sport around.

"So that ball was jinxed to fly at us?" Jess questioned.

"Well, yes, but not exactly," Mr. McLaughlin answered, "The ball is enchanted in the game to try and hit people off their broomsticks, but this one was further jinxed. Bludger's don't normally fly out of the Quidditch Pitch and start terrorizing muggle sporting events."

"Okay, what is this game and why don't I play it?" Our residential thrill seeker, Carrie, questioned. I shoved her trying to get her to shut up, this could be something serious, and this McLaughlin guy didn't seem like he was kidding.

"So, someone messed with a magical item? Why aren't we in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Coach questioned him. She had her scolding face on, which was interesting. We all knew that her tone was perfectly fine, but if looks could kill, you would be shoved in a coffin, six feet under in less then six seconds. McLaughlin saw this look and gave her one back, but it was more like he was in the middle of laughing then decided to be angry so he looked like a clown.

"They are holding a full investigation as well, ma'am. All the departments tend to work together in order to get the job completely done," He retorted making coach look like an idiot. She didn't much like that, you could tell by her increasingly hardening face, but she didn't have much else to say. We all shifted uneasily on our feet, the whole time we had been basically hiding behind her like she was our shield. A bunch of fourteen and fifteen year olds didn't need to be in the Ministry of Magic of the U.S.A., and most of all, we didn't need to be here on a Saturday morning.

"Is it over yet?" Jess mumbled under her breath, looking to the floor in utter, complete, and over powering boredom.

"I have yet to hear any fat lady sing," I told her and shot her a smile. I had my arms crossed and was suddenly a lot more interested in whatever I was doing with my foot, and at the moment that would have been tapping it on the floor. Yep, this sure was interesting. I had to wake up before the crack of dawn, which is a surprisingly dark time in the morning, to get ready and get all the way to Washington DC in order to make this stupid meeting and give my 'eyewitness account' to this guy standing here. And no, I really didn't want to.

"The Ministry is putting memory charms on all the muggles present at the game so they won't remember a thing. In fact, all they will remember is Ms. Johnson walking up to bat and giving that impressive hit that I have heard so much about," McLaughlin gave me a have crooked smile to show his congratulations. I offered him a nervous one back but did more slouching and attempts to hide then actual smiling. Lets me honest, that was by far the creepiest and oddest thing I had ever seen. I looked around and my whole team was silently laughing at me. Wonderful. As if I didn't do enough stupid things already I would now get the never ending barrage of freaky smiles.

In my moment of self pity I had zoned out and completely missed that everything was getting wrapped up. Coach shook the mans hand and the team started to shuffle out of the cramped office, I spun around as fast as I could eager to get out too. But, of course, nothing ever works out the way I want it so Shamus McLaughlin summoned me back into his office for a private chat.

"Amelia Johnson, I would like to have a word," A word. Ha. If this man could offer a simple word I might have been able to get a word back and we could have a conversation! I had some serious doubts that that would ever occur since he seemed to like being in charge. Who I was I judge really? I had only met him maybe thirty minutes ago; did I really have the right to actually judge him? Yes. I really think I did.

I planted a fake smile on my face and twirled around on my heels, offering him a wave. I took some planned steps towards his desk and stood in front of a chair, which he motioned me to sit down in. While he was taking a seat behind his own desk, I took a seat in the chair that wasn't nearly as nice as his. I shifted in the wooden chair, trying to find some comfort in his insipid office, but it was futile. I managed to just sit there, crossed my legs and folded my hands around my knees. I waited and quietly watched as he shuffled around with some pieces of parchment on his desk and attempted to organize them in a few seconds. He pulled one small piece out of the mess and neatly placed the rest in a pile on the corner of his desk. How he managed to find free space on it, I don't think I will ever fully know.

"The man who wants to talk to you should be here in a few minutes," Mr. McLaughlin told me, "He sent me a note saying he would arrive by nine." He flashed me the piece of parchment and I quickly read what it said:

_Hold Amelia Johnson, I will be there by nine o'clock._

_- Alexander Meene_

Hold Amelia? What? I hadn't done anything wrong! I probably saved that pitchers life. There was no way I was going to jail! I hadn't done anything wrong! Where were my rights? I deserved a lawyer! Or something. This wasn't fair! The battle raged on in my mind and I tried to calm myself down. There could be a number of reasons this 'Alexander Meene' wanted to hold me in this godforsaken office! This was punishment enough… I made a mental note to tell him that. They couldn't whisk me away to jail! I was a minor! Ha ha! I had them beat now, facts were on my side!

It was then the door burst open and a man wearing emerald green cloaks billowed into the room, like he was being pushed in by the wind. He was a tall man, and a little older then Mr. McLaughlin. He had no beard, but the black hair on his head was turning gray, well, what I could see of the hair that didn't have a pointed hat on top of it. He blew past me and went strait to McLaughlin who was now standing. "Hello, how are things?" The man who just entered asked shaking his hand. I stole a glance to my watch and saw it was 8:57; this must have been Alexander Meene.

"I got here as fast as I could but those damn portkeys are so touchy sometimes," He said slowly turning and facing me. He has a very heavy accent and there was no doubt in my mind that he had come strait from England. He offered a smile and looked at me through his black rimmed, square glasses. This smile, thankfully, was friendly and not weird to look at. It made me feel a lot better about the whole situation and I was under the impression now that I wasn't going to be shipped to jail anytime soon.

"Well then," He said jovially, "So, you're the one I saw at that Softball game. That was quite an impressive hit you showed us."

I shrugged and smiled smugly, "Well, you know. It's not like homeruns aren't all that uncommon…"

"Erm, no," He interrupted me with another smile on his face, "I'm talking about the one you made before that. Your bat against the bludger."

"Oh," I said slouching ever so slightly in my seat. I had to admit, when I made that hit I really proud of myself and I decided I would gloat about it a little. Now that hit had woken me up at 5:00 in the morning, made me walk to school so my team and I could use the Floo-Network to get here, wait in an office, talk to Mr. McLaughlin for a half an hour, and now I was talking to someone else. All in all, not my idea of a perfect day.

"Why were _you_ there?" I asked him, suddenly realizing that he was a wizard and at a muggle sporting event; that didn't happen to often.

"I'm here on business," Meene explained, "I'm here on personal business really. I also am very fond of learning about muggles, so a friend told me to go check out that softball game at your school," He took a pause and leaned over to Mr. McLaughlin, "It's a really great educational system you have here."

Here, where I live, you have choices on how you would like to be educated. You go to your normal boarding school for the first three years of your education and learn your basic magic skills, and then you have a choice to either stay with your boarding school, or go to a more muggle oriented school. The Ministry says this choice is for the new generation so that wizards can better learn how to interact and get along with muggles. Whatever the reason is, you can go a High School. You still learn magic and take all your normal classes, but you also learn some muggle things too. There are also sports teams, like softball, soccer, lacrosse, basketball, and others. Basically, after your first three years of boarding school you can choose to go to an average muggle High school…except learn magic.

"In any case, I would like to make you an offer," Alexander Meene told me. I raised an eye brow, interested in what he was going to say next. "How would you like to come to the Academy of Quidditch?" He had a giant smile on his face and looked outstandingly pleased with himself. My expression didn't change at all. What kind of sick offer was that? An Academy? And for Quidditch? I had a life here and I wasn't going to change it, there was no way I was going to a new school. Plus, I didn't even know how to play Quidditch, I didn't even know what was a bludger was when Mr. McLaughlin had mentioned it a few moments ago.

"With all due respect sir, I don't think I can take you up on that offer," I told him with an apologetic look on my face. Meene cocked his head, confused, and turned around and looked at Mr. McLaughlin.

"Has anyone told her?" He asked, like I wasn't even there. Mr. McLaughlin shook his head in response. There was a nod from Meene's part as he turned back around to look at me. "Let me explain. Your father and I go way back, before he moved to America. We played Quidditch together at our old school: The Academy of Quidditch. He got a job with the ministry when he graduated and I was given a teaching job there. Soon your father moved to America and I was promoted to Headmaster for my school. That's the short version of the story, I'm sure he could give you far more detail with a little more time. But, we kept in touch and when he informed me that he was to be transferred…"

"Transferred?" I asked shooting forward in my chair, clutching to it and looking up at him. My eyes were red, my dad hadn't told me a thing about being transferred, hell, my dad hadn't even told me half of this! I couldn't believe my ears, and I couldn't believe that this was happening. I was getting fed all this information from a complete stranger when I should have been hearing it from my dad! I couldn't believe him! Why didn't he _tell_ me that he was being transferred? "Where is he being transferred?" I asked, flustered and raising my tone.

"London, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but you need to know. Your father was the one who asked me to watch your game, and I think you have a lot of potential as a Quidditch player. You have a lot of choices for schools, but keep in mind The Academy. Talk it over with your father, and he will have more information. Now, I am sorry but I have to go," He shook Shamus McLaughlin's hand one more time and made his way to the door, "Keep an open mind Amelia, but we will need your decision soon."

I sat for a moment sorting through everything this man had just told me, this 'Professor Meene'. Sourly, I wondering why dad hadn't told me any of this and why all this had to be happening to me. Taking a few deep breaths I looked up at Mr. McLaughlin who looked empathetic and surprisingly silent.

"Your father should be waiting for you in the lobby," He told me. I nodded and got up from the chair looking only and the door and walked to it as quickly as I could. My dad was about to get a few words from me and we would see about him getting transferred.


	3. Terminated

**Terminated**

I walked out of Shamus McLaughlin's office on a mission to give my father a piece of my mind. There was no way in _hell_ he was going to pick up my life and move me away from everything I knew that was near and dear to me. Just no way. My heels clicked as I made my way a little down the large hall outside of the office. Doors were on either side of me and people were bustling around and getting off and on of the elevator at the end. Most noticeably was my softball team standing off to the side, huddled around a random bench. A few girls were sitting down while the rest were standing looking downcast and uncomfortable. I didn't make eye contact.

"Amelia…we heard what that man said…" Jess called after me as I brushed passed them all.

"Yeah? Well, I don't want to talk about," I said slurring all my words together, not looking back. That was such a lie though; it was the only thing I wanted to talk about. I wanted them to tell me that everything was going to be okay and that nothing was going to change, I knew far better then to hang my wish on a star though, nothing was going to be same after this. I grunted out loud and almost wanted to throw my hands up in the air in complete and utter frustration, but I didn't. They stayed swinging by my side keeping pace with my steps, if only I could run in heels. I would reach my father faster and then I could give him a piece of my mind. Oh, how I _really_ wanted to give him a piece of my mind.

I turned the corner and the space opened up even more into a humungous waiting room. There were maybe a million seats scattered everywhere and a gigantic reception desk with a few ladies sitting at it that were rigorously filing things and writing different things down. It was generally a quiet place with only the sounds of the receptionists talking and the bustle of far off hallways, and the pinging of the elevator as it opened and closed. My fists were clenched as I walked across it seeing my dad sitting there, ever so calmly, reading whatever stupid magazine he was reading. He looked up noticing my presence. He must have heard my pounding feet or maybe it was me screaming "DAD," As I made my way across the room.

"You look upset," He simply told me, closing his magazine. My mouth dropped and I started to shake in fury. How could be possibly be so ignorant?

"No, really?" I asked him, hands firmly gripping my hips and eyes about to pop out of my head, "Funny how that will happen when you found out you are _moving_!" I was trying very, very hard not to raise my voice in this overly quiet place. I was practically spitting on him as I clenched my jaw together and hissed through my teeth. Finally I got a reaction as he shifted forward in his seat, clearly realizing his big bad secret was spilled and he hadn't been the one to do so. His face was rather serious as he looked up me, he must have been confused because he didn't have anything to shoot back. Ha ha! I inwardly grinned triumphantly, he should be getting mad at any moment and I could have my argument!

"Who told you?"

"A certain Mister Professor Alexander Meene decided to inform me," I told him very snobbishly.

"You talked to Alex?" He asked bewildered, obviously his so called friend had told me the big news without my dad's consent.

"Oh! So you are on nick name basis with this man?"

"We're friends, yes."

"Some friend! _You_ should have been the one to tell me!"

"I don't like your tone, young lady," My dad immediately took hold of the situation before I could go off at him. I slouched a little in my shoulders knowing I definitely could have had my head for my attitude but was luckily spared. I really was blessed to have a father who actually tried to understand your side of the opinion and could generally otherwise empathize towards you. He was still looking sternly at me when I mustered up courage to meet his eyes again; I folded my shoulders picking up the pieces of my ego.

"An explanation would be nice," I said quietly with a small eye roll after a few moments. My father looked to me and stood up, and then with a nod he put his hand around my back and led me to the elevator.

"Right," He began as we rode to the floor he worked on, which just so happened to be in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, "I found out last week that the Ministry wanted me to be stationed in London. Apparently in England they needed the kind of person who could get their department back in order and get things up and running again. Also known as: me." I could tell that he was proud of that. If I knew anything he worked hard and that was just the kind of reward he was looking for. "Anyway, it wouldn't have been for long, but we would have had to move, and then the Ministry wanted me to back here again. I told them that I wasn't going to move my family all around the world for the sake of my job…"

"So we're not moving?" I asked hoping that maybe in the past fifteen seconds the circumstances had changed and we were going to stay home in America.

"No. I decided to give my two weeks here, and my old friends back in England said that they could pull a few strings and get me a job back over seas. I took that offer and next month I am going to be worked for the Ministry of Magic for Britain," He completed that part and had a slight smile on his face. I on the other hand felt very dead pan and wanted to go to the bathroom so that I could just have a moment to myself. How on earth could I blame him for taking that job offer? He would be back home and he would also be with old friends, not to mention that half of our family lived over there. Still, I couldn't in any way find the happiness in this situation at all. My dad was moving me away from everything I had grown up around the last fourteen years of my life.

I managed to pull my feet along after we got out of the elevator and down a narrow hallway to my fathers cramped office. His office was even smaller then Shamus McLaughlin's, but by far more neat. His desk had labeled baskets and letters piled in one while the other had memos, there were others too filled with different pieces of parchment and different odds and ends. I slouched into the one chair he had pushed off to the side.

"So what is this Academy for Quidditch?" I asked after a few minutes. There wasn't much thinking left to do about it other then find out what school I should go to. Actually, I thought of asking him why he didn't just reject the job over in England and stay here in America, but I wasn't that stupid. Dad wanted to go home, I always heard him and mom talking about it when they thought they were talking privately but I was really eaves dropping (Nasty habit, can't seem to kick it). Then I thought of throwing the argument in his face of 'But I am the child! Shouldn't you do what is best for me and what I want?' That was really selfish though, even if I did think it was true. Dad was a human being too who wanted to do certain things with his life, even my parents had dreams once.

"It's a very good school, you'll get a good education and I've heard they still have decent food," My dad tried to throw a joke in but I wasn't laughing, "You'll be able to learn all about Quidditch and how to play it, they have a lot of good starters courses and excellent professors. Let's see, what else? It's a boarding school, so you will be staying there most of the year, except on Holiday breaks when you will be coming home to the family." He paused, obviously trying to think of everything he possibly could to tell me. He was ball parking it, I am pretty sure. There had to be more to this school because it just sounded like a boring place where kids liked to fly around on broom sticks.

"There are four teams that everyone is put in according to their personality and how they are and act. There's Partumn, that's the team for a really good problem solvers, they are really creative in their solution to problems. There's also Fortissain which is for the intrepid and loyal, Accipion is for the people who are accepting and understanding, and Voxotus is for the ambitious, they set their goals high. The teams have their own separate quarters but you will share classes with them and eat meals with them and that sort of thing," He trailed off a little as he looked at me. I didn't really want to know much more then that for the moment. I was finding out that this was a lot to take in at once, kind of like eating a really big piece of cake and then getting sick because it was too sweet. Yeah…something like that.

I looked at the ground and at my feet. I had huge feet that even looked ugly in pretty heels. I gave a little sigh and stared at all the scars on my legs from sliding into bases. "When do we leave?" I asked, not even bothering to make eye contact.

"As soon as the school year ends," He replied quietly. Cool, I couldn't even have my last summer here before I would be shipped across the ocean like a package without a return address. I nodded anyway, looking no more happy then I had the moment before. When I woke up this morning I had no idea that my whole entire world was going to come crashing down on top of my head, and if I had I wouldn't have woken up. I shook my head in disappointment; at myself, at the situation, at the world. Sweet life, this really sucked. Christ, this really sucked!

I shoved the chair out from under me and stood up. "I'll see you at home, Dad," I said still refusing to make eye contact.

"Bye, sweetie," I heard him say as I made my way towards the door. He sounded no more happy then I did. I shut the door and stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. Why did I have to be so mean sometimes? I immediately felt bad about how I had reacted to this, but my pride kept me from opening the door and apologizing. A few more deep breaths and I made my way to the elevator so I could find my team and maybe feel comforted. They were always good with making a situation seem not as horrible as it really was, and I hoped to God that they would be able to do the same thing this time around.

The elevator ride up seemed to take hours; I couldn't understand why the ministry didn't seem busy at all. Then I remembered it was Saturday. I was on the elevator alone, which was a first for this place, and I did feel really alone. I felt like the only one in the whole world who could understand how I felt. That thought just made me even more upset as the door eventually pinged open and I saw the team sitting in the waiting my dad and I had been in not minutes before. It felt like a lifetime though.

I took a few steps to them, my arms held together behind my back. "Hey guys," I managed to say. They all remained generally quiet as they looked up at me.

"Hey, girl," Jess said, finally, "You okay?"

"I dunno," I said my voice cracking.

Then I lost it. I just started crying. Jess walked up to me and gave me a big hug. She was good with hugs, and it managed to make me smile a little. She led me over to take a seat with everyone.

"Don't cry," Karen said, "Your makeup'll run." She whipped away a tear running down my cheek and offered me a smile. The side of my mouth twitched up for a moment, but it wasn't much. Them being so nice just made me realize I was going to miss them all that much more. That thought lead to a whole new batch of tears making their way from my eyes down my face. No one was saying anything; it didn't even feel like anyone was breathing. I wondering if they wanted to know what was happening to me apart from what they knew.

"I'm moving to England," I told them all, trying to control the crying, "Because my dad is getting transferred. And I'll probably go to this school called the Academy of Quidditch because that's where my dad went and they have teams who room together but you mingle with other teams during the day and, and," I continued to mumbled on about what I knew about the school, "And it sounds _horrible_." There was a dull silence as no one really knew what to say. I couldn't blame them, at the moment in time; I didn't even know how to think anymore.

"So, you'll be learning a new sport?" Carrie eventually asked. I nodded. "A new school with a new sport to completely own at sounds good to me." She said to me with a shrug and a smile.

"New boys," Ally, another girl from the team, commented, "And boys with accents are _hott_."

"Different educations always look good to potential bosses," Coach Andrews offered. I gave her a look, but at least she was trying to help.

"And when you get to vacation home, we'll all be here," Jess said raising her eyebrows at me. I nodded, giving everyone a weak smile. Even though I just wanted to be upset and angry at the world, they were helping. I tried to not be vindictive as they comforted me, and it was hard, but I accepted what they said. Everything they said was true, especially what Ally said, not everything was bad.

"You just got to do it!" Carrie said, her voice lowering to emphasize 'do it'. I nodded, agreeing.

"I'll show them what it means to be an athlete," I said standing up, looking more confident then I probably felt. I laughed, as did everyone else.

"Bring it in!" Coach announced to us. We all put our hands in a circle smiling and looking at each other. Yes, I would miss these girls, but I also knew that they couldn't be replaced. They would always be with me, even when I was in England. They were right, I just needed to go there and play this Quidditch sport better then anyone else. I needed to be the best athlete that I could. It was just a new challenge to conquer. They gave me the strength I needed. "Cougars on three! 1, 2, 3…"

"COUGARS!"


	4. Habitat for Inhumanity

**Habitat for Inhumanity**

I walked out of Susquehanna High School for the last time on June sixth. I was stiff, tired, and felt a little sick. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to go to high school and be involved, get into a little drama, pick a few fights, do everything. I thought that I was going to have four years to accomplish all that needed to be done, but I was wrong. As usual.

Now I was sitting on a box in my empty room. There was basically nothing but carpet and walls by this point. I hoped and prayed that the new owners of the home wouldn't put some horrible little boy in it just to have fire trucks or ninjas put on the wall. This room was perfect, and now I wouldn't see it again. It slid off of my box and laid down on the floor one last time. I remembered the number of times I had worked out on this floor, which was quite often. I also remembered the amount of clothes I always left on the ground and got yelled at for. So much of my life had happened just on this floor. I rubbed by hand across it, feeling the coarse carpet on my skin.

"Amelia!" I heard my mom call from the bottom of the steps, "Let's go!"

I slowly got up, grabbed my box of extra crap I didn't want the movers to touch, and walked down the stairs. My dad was standing with a toaster in one hand in the remnants of our kitchen.

"You taped that up really good, right?" He asked, gesturing to my box.

"Yeah."

"Good, let's go!" He held out the portkey.

"Wait!" My mom said, interrupting the trip that we were about to embark on, "Say bye!"

"What?" Dad asked, "That's ridiculous, it's a house."

"Say good bye, Thomas." She said with force.

I heard him mumble bye and chuckled. Three days ago school got out and now I was off to spend an entire summer somewhere else with nothing to do. "Good bye, _home_," I said, making sure to emphasize home. I figured, if I couldn't change the circumstances, I was going to milk it for what it was worth.

I looked at the walls of the house and wished they could talk and tell everyone about everything that had happened here. The Christmas's and the Fourth of July's. Some holidays I wouldn't even be able to celebrate anymore now that I was moving to a different country. I was prepared for culture shock but didn't think I could plan accordingly. And yet, I was seconds away from starting a new life, ready or not.

"Okay, let's go!" Dad said enthusiastically. He was really excited about this move and to get back to his home. He held out the toaster in front of him and we all took hold of it. I gripped my box as hard as I could before we started whirling around. Portkeys are not something you can describe and give the full effect to someone. Unless you have stood in a wind tunnel or made it out alive from a tornado, you will never know.

And as quickly as it started, I slammed onto the ground, hard. My eyes rolled around in their sockets for a minute as I tried to regain my senses. Slowly, grasping my head, I looked up. The first thing I saw was a medium sized house. It was mostly brown and had a large overgrown garden all around it. A dark red brick chimney rose from the side of it and I half expected to see smoke already rising. But, there wasn't because nothing was that cliché. Then, groaning, I stood up to get a feel for my surroundings.

A fence surrounded a huge front yard and extended to the house. The early summer grass was particularly green, and a stone pathway extended from the front door to a dirt road at the end of the property. I shook my head pitifully. The houses around these parts were few and far between, everyone had a decent amount of land.

"This is it?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dad said taking a swift breath of the fresh air surrounding him. He seemed extremely content. Looking around for mom, I saw her walking in the red front door of our new house. There were so many new things I was going to have to get used to.

"Welcome to the English country side!" Dad said, grabbed my box for me, and headed into the house. I reluctantly followed him. I was torn on how to feel about this place. It was stunningly beautiful. Trees were growing on their own time, it seemed, the sun was shining, and from my previous understanding, our property extended much farther then what our fence enclosed. Even though I liked it, I felt like I was supposed to hate it. This was the place that tore me apart from everything I cared about. Guess I would have to get used to it if I was going to be living here.

As I entered the front door, the living room was the first thing to greet me. Our furniture was already there, waiting for us to arrange it how we would. A lot of it was right in the middle of the floor with white sheets over them. I walked a little farther in and then the kitchen, where my parents were. It had wood flooring, a window above the sink, and a back door. My parents were expecting everything, making sure the kitchen was in top condition and that the table wasn't damaged during the move.

"I'm gonna check out the rest of the house," I said, thumbing behind me. I exited the kitchen and made my way down a kind of hallway noticing a bathroom, a family room, and finally some stairs. They all had a few bits of furniture, but mostly boxes of junk that we would have to go through. I walked up the steps, and they creaked every so slightly. Great, we were living in a creepy house. The upstairs, was a basic layout. The room closest to the stairs was the master bedroom, two bedrooms down the hall, and at the end of the hall another bathroom. I walked down to the second door and stepped into the only room with furniture; my new bedroom.

My room was actually kind of nice. I was going to be angry because I assumed they picked my room for me, but it was nice. There was a big old window in the middle of the wall with a window seat. I sat down on it and looked out to the front yard. A cat ran across the dirt road. Turning around I looked into my room and decided I better get to getting. My room wasn't going to arrange itself…not unless I jinxed it or something. Having grown up in a half muggle, half wizard society, I was much more comfortable with doing things the old fashioned way, and started to push around my bed, sitting it against the wall where I wanted it.

"Amelia!" I heard my dad yell in the middle of me making progress. I sighed.

"What!" It came out snappy.

"Come here!"

Grudgingly I made my way out of my room and to the kitchen where my parents still were. On my way there I noticed a dining room as well, "What do you want?"

"You just got an owl," My mom said and handed me a piece of paper. Parchment. I opened it and read the note out loud.

"'Transfer student applications are due by July first and no later. Enclosed I took the liberty of sending you an application anyway. You may not be interested in the school but we would love to have you. Hope you're enjoying England! From Head Master Alexander Meene.'" I looked up at my parents and back at the paper, "You do want me to go to this school, right?"

"Yes!" Dad said eagerly.

"Wherever you want to go," Mom said a little more matronly.

"Where else would I go?" I had no idea about the schools England offered.

"Hogwarts," My dad said bitterly, "But it's hard to get into that school."

I nodded, "Okay, I don't want to go to a school named Hogwarts…it sounds like a disease or something. Plus, going to this Academy of Quaditch –"

"Quidditch," Dad corrected me.

"Whatever. Going there I can keep the family name going or something. That's my new school."

"Great," Dad said and took a seat at the table. He gestured me to come sit with him, "Let's get this application filled out."

I rolled my eyes and sat next to him. For the next two hours we figured out how to make the application look at great as possible. What he thought would be important to put on it was not what I thought would be important. We argued and fought, but eventually the whole thing was filled out. And let me be the first to say, if my I didn't know the erase spell, that piece of parchment would have been illegible and the world's worst abstract picture. There were so many potential scratch out's it was embarrassing. But, dad let me include how good I was at softball so I was happy in and at the end.

As quick as he could he sent the application out the window with the family owl. Now all I had to do was wait for a reply.

"When do you think they'll get back to me?" I asked, taking a seat at the table again.

"Probably after all the applications get sent in. You'll get it after your birthday."

"My birthday?" I asked distraught, "But that's at the end of this month!"

My dad gave me a look. Maybe I was a little too old to complain like this. Or maybe it was due to the fact that however slight, my complaining made me look interested in going to this new school. However slight.

"I think you'll make it," Dad said slowly and picked up a box from the kitchen table, "We have a lot to do to get this house in order. I go back to work in two days, so it's going to be mostly you and you're mother. I can do heavy lifting after I get off of work and all if you need me to."

" 'Kay."

He started to walk away before he turned his back again, "And you're going to need equipment and a little bit of training before you go to school. As soon as I can find time, we're going to go to Diagon Alley and buy you a broomstick."

"That sounds fine," I told him nodding. I didn't know what Diagon Alley was but I was sure I was going to find out. Dad finally left, leaving me sitting alone. Softly, I laid my head down on the polished surface of the table. This whole summer was going to be spent putting a house together and learning to fly a broom. And the start of it would be spent indoors with my mother. Maybe, come September, I would learn to love that school. Because, this summer was going to a long haul and I knew it.


End file.
